Don't Go Thinking I'm A Monster
by leopardsnow
Summary: A glimpse into the beginning's of Orochimaru's quest for immortality.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. This is for entertainment purposes only.**

 **Author's Note: Yes, I know I should be working on "It's Because We're Desperate." But something along these lines happened today and I felt like I should write about it…Please don't think too badly of me.**

He didn't recognize the two boys that stood over the little body, but he approached them nevertheless. Call it morbid curiosity, call it a twisted sense of the world…it didn't matter. Something drew him to the scene.

The boys, both with light hair and slightly taller than he, looked down upon a small form laying in between them. Their heads were bowed, their faces were solemn, and their hands clasped and unclasped nervously as they regarded the broken thing sprawled on the cold, unyielding sidewalk. The chilly winter wind whipped about their faces, and his own black locks were grabbed and tussled by the breeze moving briskly around them. Out in the sun, the temperature was almost pleasant, but here, beside a building casting deep shade all around, he felt goosebumps raise on his pale flesh. It would be nice to get inside, he mused. Then the form moved.

It was a bird, a cardinal to be exact, and it was dying. Even in its death throes, even as its little red beak opened and closed convulsively and its feathered chest fluttered in labored respirations, the bird was beautiful. The deep berry crimson of its breast, faintly tinged with gray, was like a bright splash of blood on snow, and while the slender feet were pale and clenched, they were still unimaginably delicate, dainty, perfect toes capped with minute nails. If he saw this creature perching on a branch or flying, he would have considered it a perfect specimen. But no bird would permit itself to be on its back, ruby wings splayed open, pinned to the unforgiving earth.

"What happened?" He murmured, joining the other boys in their vigil.

"I don't know." The thinner one shrugged. "It just fell from the sky."

Examining the twisted neck, he looked up at the towering building. There were wide swathes of glass adorning its sides. "It must have hit a window." He declared. There was a heavy silence, then "Are you going to do something with it?"

The other boy shook his head.

"Someone should probably put it out of its misery."

"I can't do that!" The thin boy proclaimed. His friend's eyes had widened in surprise at the statement.

It really was a pretty thing. The bird's legs jerked, and its wings fluttered morosely. There were no visible injuries save for the neck, but the beak opened spasmodically, closed, then opened again. The vermilion feathers rustled in the frigid wind. If it didn't succumb soon, the bird would freeze, a slow and painful death.

But the grip on life was stubborn. The thing refused to die! It continued to breathe, continued to jerk its useless wings, continued to fight! He was amazed.

"Though they be little, they be fierce…even when death is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end to all."

"What?" The boys seemed shocked at his muttered statement.

"Just a quote I read."

They looked on. Several minutes passed. Still it did not die. He pondered how fragile life was, how easy it was to steal away. Glass, so easily broken by a punch lacking any sort of chakra, had managed to break something so full of vitality as a winter cardinal. No windows showed any kind of impact, and he shuddered to think of running through the trees during training only to discover the air around him had turned to stone. Such a sudden way to meet one's end.

One of the boys pulled a tissue out of his backpack and draped it over the bird.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna move it."

"There's no point."

The boy removed the Kleenex, and the bird convulsed. It was in pain, hideous pain, but still its vital organs continued to pump with life, albeit weakly. He knew if the creature could speak it would be screaming, begging, pleading with them to take away its suffering.

He came to a decision. "You might want to go away."

"Why? We don't need to be anywhere." The thin one challenged. His friend nodded in agreement.

"Fine. But don't go thinking I'm a monster."

Quickly, decisively, he brought his foot down upon the bird's head. Its skull crunched as he ground it into the concrete, the body convulsed once, and then was still. Its pain was over. He had saved it from hours of needless suffering…but that didn't make him feel any better.

The two boys had gone silent, somewhat shocked at the violence of his actions, and Orochimaru at last turned to walk away. From behind, he heard one of the boys mutter something, something that would stick with him for all those years of war. It was only the first part of a sentence, but still the fragment made him ponder.

"I wish we could be immortal…"

And the thought was enticing indeed.


End file.
